Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry


By: Memory Dragon
Summary: The green-eyed monster can be very useful whilst catching megalomaniac Time Lords.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, nor do I make any claim to.
Charaters: Three/Delgado Master, Brigadier, Jo
Warnings: It's short and a bit cracky...  Still, hopefully enjoyable?
Notes: This fic was spawned when I was reading The Face of the Enemy.  While most of the book I was rather unimpressed with, there was a scene where the Master gets the Brigadier and Ian captured.  He then proceeds to leave behind a gun right where the Brig can find it and adds one of his own gloves to tell him who it was from.  I started to wonder whatever became of that glove, and this fic was the result.  It's short and rather pointless, but hey...
Author's thanks:  Once again goes to nemaline for pointing out when I don't quite make sense.  I don't know what I'd do without her.


The Doctor stood in the Brigadier's office with his hands on his hips, disdainfully expressing his doubts about the Brigadier's suggestions for the use of his time.  "Look, old chap, it wouldn't work.  There's no way we can track the Master like that."

Jo tilted her head to the side, hands smoothing out the very fetching dress she was sporting, though the Doctor privately thought it was just a little too short to be proper.  That was the time period though, so he never said anything about it to either her or Liz while they'd been in his company.  "But surely you could come up with something, Doctor?" she said sweetly, in a voice that implied the Doctor could do anything if he tried hard enough.  It was one of Jo's more endearing traits, but the Doctor occasionally wondered if she didn't use it just to manipulate people sometimes.  Currently, he was leaning towards the latter, considering the approving glance the Brigadier sent her.  "What about making something like all those DNA tracers that they have in the cinema?"

"Real life doesn't work like that, Jo," he chided gently, though he was thinking the idea over.  Finally, he sighed, dismissing the idea.  "Technically, I could make a device that would track him the next time he dematerializes in the area, but the Master is meticulous about this sort of thing.  He's the sort that burns his finger nail clippings rather than throwing them out and I doubt he'd leave a hair behind for us to find either.  I'd never find the biodata with which to work with."

The Brigadier's eyebrows rose and the Doctor could swear there was a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaned forward.  "Would a personal effect of the Master's suffice?" he asked thoughtfully.

Refusing to let the surprise show on his face, the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck while he gathered his thoughts.  "Depends on the item, I suppose.  Don't tell me you've managed to get something of the Master's?"

Not saying anything, the Brigadier opened one of his desk drawers out of the Doctor's line of sight.  He waited impatiently for a few seconds as the Brigadier presumably shuffled the contents of the drawer around, bringing out a single black glove.  Not just any black glove, however, but the Master's glove.  This time the Doctor didn't bother to hide his astonishment, since he was absolutely floored and there really wasn't a way to hide that.  "My dear Lethbridge-Stewart, how in the world did you get your hands on that?" he asked.

Again, the Doctor almost caught a glimpse of a smirk on the Brigadier's face, but dismissed that as completely preposterous.  "Is that one of the Master's gloves?" Jo asked curiously, glancing over at the black material.

"It is," the Brigadier said easily, tossing the glove to the Doctor who nearly dropped it in surprise.  Thankfully, the Brigadier was much too polite to comment on how the Doctor had recognized it immediately.  "And before you ask how I know, Doctor, he gave it to me."

The Master did what?  That incorrigible scamp.  The Doctor's hands curled around the glove in question, not sure who he was angrier at.  The Master had never in the course of their unofficial liaisons left behind even a hair on the pillow as he'd mentioned earlier, and yet he gave the Brigadier his glove.  Not only that, but the Brigadier had the gall to accept the token.  He'd been aware that UNIT had some dealings with the Master while he and Jo had been on the planet Peladon, but this went too far.  He was the chief scientific adviser at UNIT, not the Master, and despite that brief time he'd been absent, the Brigadier really should know better than to trust the Master.  Knowing the Master, he'd probably poisoned the glove or something equally nefarious.

He was most certainly not jealous over either of them, however, and therefore refused to stand there sputtering furiously over the indignation.  "And why would he do that?" The Doctor snapped, feeling more than a little embarrassed for letting his emotions get the better of him but not caring at the moment. 

The Brigadier had the insufferable cheek to grin at the Doctor's outburst, one half of his mouth turning up lopsidedly.  "I suggest you find him then, Doctor.  Perhaps you can ask him for yourself once he's behind bars."

"Yes, I'll do that," the Doctor said, turning smartly to go back to his lab as he was determined to get this DNA tracer working.  He'd bring an end to the Master's dabbling with UNIT affairs (and whatever other affairs he had on the side, which he was most certainly not going to think about) if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

The Brigadier leaned back in his chair as the Doctor left in a huff, not bothering to mask his good mood.  Hopefully this meant that the Master would soon be back under lock and key where he belonged and his scientific adviser would stop moping that he hadn't seen his 'best enemy' in a while.   While he wasn't in the habit of liking the monsters that tried to take over Earth, this green-eyed one could occasionally be put to good use...


Quote of the Fic:
"Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo."
-H. G. Wells


( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
Mar. 10th, 2011 11:42 pm (UTC)
I knew there was something missing in my life.

And then I read this fic. At last, I've found it.

Oh Brig, I love you and your subtle manipulations. And you, Doctor, for refusing to admit your own obvious jealousies. And you, Jo, with your additional subtle manipulations. I love how everybody subtly manipulates everybody so that everybody can be happy. Yes.

I'll just ramble off into the sunset now. Ramblerambleramblerambleramblerambleramble
Mar. 10th, 2011 11:47 pm (UTC)
Many thanks! I'm glad I could be of service as a lost and found. <3

Manipulation can be a very good thing on occasion, especially when the outcome is good to all involved.
Mar. 11th, 2011 12:27 am (UTC)
Ha, this is a lot of fun.
Mar. 11th, 2011 12:39 am (UTC)
Thanks. <3 I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Mar. 11th, 2011 02:59 am (UTC)
Ooooh...That tricky Brig! Very nice. Also love a Three who's questioning the quality of Jo's sweetness and the propriety of her nicker-flashing skirts, even though she is so clearly to love in all respects.
Mar. 11th, 2011 03:52 am (UTC)
Heh, the skirts thing was actually more me than Three, I'm afraid. Every time I watch those episodes and either her or Liz are wearing a skirt it's all like... Can't bend down much? She is definitely very awesome regardless though. <3 Thanks for the comments!
Mar. 11th, 2011 11:08 am (UTC)
Hehe, this was such a fun ficlet - manipulative!Brig + jealous!Three = win ^_^

Mar. 11th, 2011 12:43 pm (UTC)
Thanks! It was fun to write too. I agree that it's a particularly good combination too... XD
Mar. 16th, 2011 03:18 am (UTC)
Sneaky Brig, very sneaky...XD
Oh 3, how I do love you...and this story! XDDD
AND your Portal quote icon!
Mar. 16th, 2011 03:54 am (UTC)
Many thanks. <3 The Brig is a lot more clever than the Doctor gives him credit for sometimes.

And the Portal quote is definitely awesome too. Spent like, five minutes in photoshop making it. <3
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )


Anla-shok Na Ivanova
Memory Dragon

Latest Month

January 2017
Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Tiffany Chow